


The Zamboni

by CubbieGirl1723



Series: Hockeytown [1]
Category: Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hockey, University of North Dakota, drunk driving mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:11:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26350144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CubbieGirl1723/pseuds/CubbieGirl1723
Summary: Veronica Mars does not want to tutor the captain of the hockey team. She definitely doesn't want to fall for him. Good thing there's no chance of that happening...
Relationships: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars
Series: Hockeytown [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968541
Comments: 51
Kudos: 108





	The Zamboni

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jmazzy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmazzy/gifts).



> A few months ago, there was a fic rec challenge on tumblr where you were supposed to rec a fic for each letter of your username. (It's fun, go try it.) Jmazzy had a difficult time coming up with two fics that started with Z and MarshmellowBobcat and I immediately began brainstorming fun titles. She gave me the prompt title "Zamboni" and this fic was born. Thanks, MB, for titling all my fics, sometimes even before I write them! And now J will have one more fic that starts with Z.

“Logan Echolls? No. Oh, no.” Veronica slid the printout back across Nish’s desk in the campus tutoring center and folded her arms over her chest. 

Nish, crammed behind the desk, waved off her concerns and tried to lean back but bumped the wall. Veronica was pretty sure the office used to be a mop closet in the Administration Building but the University of North Dakota was nothing if not resourceful. 

“Come on. Do you even know him? It can’t be that bad.”

No, but she didn’t need to. His reputation as a frat boy who only cared about hockey and sex was well known. And she wasn’t going to waste her precious time. She shook her head and glared.

“A dumb Neanderthal jock? He’s a hockey player, for crying out loud. Nish, isn’t there anyone else you can ask?”

“It’s nothing you can’t handle. You’re our only Spanish tutor right now. And didn’t you come in last week and tell me to give you all the hours possible?”

Veronica winced, thinking of the radiator bill for her LeBaron. Her car was shit but replacing the radiator was cheaper than a new ride. It helped that her mechanic was willing to give her a deal but she still needed all the tutoring hours she could get to cover the cost. Her waitressing job helped, too, but even with all her frugalities, life was expensive. She had roommates but the rent on their apartment was not cheap, nor was college tuition. Her coveted internship at the Grand Forks Herald was scheduled to start in three weeks and she had to have reliable transportation to get there. So more tutoring hours, it was. Between tutoring and waitressing at a diner on campus, she might be able to afford her repairs. 

Sighing, she grabbed the manila folder Nish offered and perused the contents. 

“You sure he’s serious about this? I’m not here to mess around.” 

Nish shrugged. “Echolls has to pass to play. And from what I’ve heard, he’s serious about hockey.”

If anyone understood being serious about a goal, it was Veronica. After her mom drove drunk, killed a pedestrian and went to jail, she became a pariah in high school. The University of North Dakota was the polar opposite of Neptune, California in every way and that’s why she chose it. She was here to get a good degree, get a good job, and not screw up her life. 

And everything about Logan Echolls screamed he was the opposite. Having been dragged to the odd frat party by her roommates over the last four years of college, she knew who he was. A senior like her, he was drop dead sexy, the captain of the school’s national championship hockey team, and a player. 

“Come on, Veronica,” Nish cajoled. “I really need you to take this one. I promise, just easy Freshman English assignments the rest of the semester.”

“Nope. Nish, I don’t have time. I really need—”

“To focus on your internship, I know. But isn’t it unpaid?”

Nish had her there. “Well—”

“Look, he’s desperate. And rich. I’m not supposed to say things like this but I can probably negotiate, get him to pay double. You have to say yes.”

Dollar signs flashed before her eyes. Maybe she could fix the radiator and the power door locks…

“It’s a good thing I like you,” she finally conceded. 

“And you like this job!” 

She did. Much as she’d bitch about dumb jocks, she got to set her own hours, and work when it was convenient for her. And the spark when comprehension would dawn in a pupil’s eyes, the pride she felt when they brought their papers or exams to her, beaming at their passing grades...well, she’d never tell Nish. It might ruin her badass reputation. But she loved those moments. 

Love it or not, she needed the dough. 

“Okay, I’ll take it.” Standing, Veronica shoved the file from Nish in her bag and maneuvered around the heavy wooden chair, skirting the piles of books in the cramped space. “I know the drill. I’ll contact him, then log my tutoring hours.”

“Thanks, Veronica.” Nish sighed in obvious relief, sagging in her chair. “You’re the best.”

“Don’t forget it!”

_ Call now or later? _ she debated with herself as she walked back to her apartment. One of the best things about her place was its proximity to campus. She happened to love her three roommates, too, and the fact that they each had their own room and bathroom didn’t hurt, either. But since her car was less than reliable, it helped that she could hoof it when needed. 

She decided to put off the call until she was home. That way it wouldn’t be too noisy in the background. Maybe if she channeled her best professional tutor personna, she could set the tone and let him know she meant business. 

Letting herself in her apartment, she was struck by the stillness. It was a Friday night but Parker was probably at a party, Mac was spending the weekend with Bronson, and Jackie had a shift at the coffee shop. They’d been so busy lately, she couldn’t remember the last time they had a girls night. She needed to make sure they spent some quality roommate time together soon. 

But for now, it worked out well there was no one to witness this phone call. 

Sinking down onto the plush red couch in their living room, Veronica dug her phone and the tutoring file out of her bag. She typed in the numbers and pressed send. 

“Hello?”

The background din was so loud, she could barely hear the person answering. 

“Is this Logan Echolls?” she yelled. “I’m calling about Spanish tutoring.”

“When can we…” The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a thumping bass line. 

“What? Can you repeat that? Where are you?”

“Unless this is a booty call, I’m not interested! I’m at a party! It’s a Friday night. What kind of friendless loser calls about tutoring on a Friday night?” 

But he must have been expecting more noise because his words echoed in the sudden quiet. 

Veronica bristled. She didn’t have any plans for the night but that didn’t mean she was friendless or a loser. Focusing on her classes instead of assholes like Logan Echolls had been the best decision she ever made. And she was seriously regretting her choice to take this assignment. 

She adopted her frostiest tone, trying to convey her utter disdain for him, Friday night frat parties, and anyone who wasted her time. 

“I’m Veronica, the only Spanish tutor available. Maybe try sucking up instead of insulting me. Can you meet Monday evening?”

“Nope.” He popped the P on the end of the word in the most annoying fashion. “Hockey practice. Sunday afternoon?”

“I can do two o’clock. In the library.”

“Four o’clock. And it needs to be at my house.”

“Absolutely not. Tutoring—”

“Look, my schedule is packed. I have practice at one on Sunday and I need to shower. So my house.”

She let silence fill the line, hoping he would cave. 

He cleared his throat. “Please? I live close.”

“Oh, fine. Text me your address.” She’d let her roommates know where she was going and she’d bring her taser. Maybe she’d use it as a teaching tool, too. This guy could use a few jolts from Mr. Sparky. 

He grunted, then hung up without saying goodbye. 

What a jackass. Clearly, the college experience hadn’t expanded his horizons. Veronica growled, then thought about how nice it would be to drive around campus again. 

* * *

“‘S’up.” A tall male opened the door to Logan Echolls’s house, scratched his bare chest as a lazy smile spread across his face. “Come on in, Beautiful.”

Veronica shifted her weight on the porch and raised a brow. 

“Uh, I’m looking for Logan?”

“Too bad for me. He’s upstairs.”

The shirtless hottie flashed another grin and stepped back, letting her into the foyer and jerking a thumb at the staircase. 

“Oh, no, that’s not what—”

“Door at the end of the hallway.”

He flicked his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes and sat down in a recliner, sipping a beer and ignoring both her and the couple making out on the couch next to him. 

Yep. Two blond heads, totally lip locked together in the middle of the living room, oblivious to anyone else. 

“Um.” Veronica didn’t think this would be the best spot for tutoring but she had no intention of going up to this guy’s bedroom. She was a tutor, not another notch on his bedpost. She didn’t want to be anywhere near his bedpost. “Tell him to meet me in the kitchen.”

The doorman snorted, never looking up from the TV—a documentary about elephants on Animal Planet, of all things. 

“I don't think you want to do that. We had a party Friday night and it’s a disaster zone in there.”

Veronica glanced around at the living room, strewn with empty red solo cups, open bags of chips, and the oblivious couple still kissing on the couch. She would have said this room was a biological hazard so she could only imagine what the kitchen looked like. 

“End of the hallway?” she clarified, pointing towards the stairs by the foyer. 

“Yep.”

With a sigh, she made her way through the debris and up the stairs. 

_ Please be fully clothed _ .

Biting her lip, she knocked on the bedroom door. 

“Logan? It’s Veronica, your Spanish tutor.”

He opened the door, low-slung jeans revealing his hip bones, water droplets still clinging to his bare chest. His very impressive, muscled chest. 

_ Of course _ . 

“Could you put on some clothes?” She gestured at him, averting her eyes as her cheeks warmed. 

“Yeah, sorry. Practice ran long.” He grabbed a black t-shirt off the floor, sniffed it, and pulled it over his head. “Have a seat.”

She glanced around the room. It was cleaner than she expected. Dresser in the corner with a TV on top, desk with a chair, and a very large bed made up the tidy contents. Should she sit at the desk? Then where would he sit? What about—

He popped onto the bed, crossed his legs and patted a spot next to him. 

That answered her question.

“Come on, I don’t bite.”

But the wicked smile he sent her implied otherwise. 

It didn’t matter if he made her mouth go dry and her palms sweat. Logan Echolls and his cocky smile had trouble written all over it. This was a job, just like any other tutoring assignment. Except this one paid double. 

Even if he did look amazing with his shirt off. 

So she glared at him and settled primly on his bed, spreading out materials as a barrier between them. 

“It would be best if we only spoke Spanish during our tutoring sessions. We’ll work on vocabulary and grammar as we go but this is the best way for us to practice.”

Veronica launched into a question about sentence structure but Logan stared blankly back at her. 

“Uh, can you repeat that? I do okay reading but I’m not great at speaking.”

“En Espanol.”

He rolled his eyes and tried again, stumbling through his sentence, getting most of the words right but messing up the tenses. As they talked, she was able to pinpoint his problem. She’d seen it before. He could remember his vocabulary words but struggled with correct pronunciation and proper tense. 

Thankfully her high school Spanish classes had focused on conversation so she had a good foundation for it when she decided to minor in Spanish. A strong aptitude for languages didn’t hurt, either. 

Veronica made Logan converse with her for a few more minutes before switching and quizzing him over basic vocabulary and spelling. Then she had him write her a paragraph about his weekend plans. He was still very much thinking in English and trying to translate instead of thinking in Spanish but he just needed more practice. 

Glancing at her watch, she realized that the last hour had passed quickly. She stretched, arching her back, and his eyes flew to her breasts. 

_ Pig _ . For a second, she had forgotten how much of a jackass he was. How kind of him to remind her. 

Hopping off his bed, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. 

“That’s enough for today. I should probably—”

“Wait, please. Can you stay a little longer?” He reached out, grabbed her forearm, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his hand on her. Tingles raced across her skin at the contact. “I have a quiz this week and I could really use the practice. I’ve learned more in this hour with you than I have with Senora Espinoza all semester.”

He flashed her his most charming smile and her traitorous heart lurched. Damn. 

“No, I really have to go.”

With absolutely impeccable timing, her stomach chose that moment to let out an audible growl. 

“Are you sure?” Logan looked pointedly at her midsection. “I was just going to order pizza for dinner. I owe you, for all your help today.”

His plaintive tone and twinkling puppy dog eyes made her insides melt. But sticking around for dinner felt less like a tutoring session and more like a date. Or friends hanging out. She already knew he wasn’t the kind of person she’d be friends with, let alone date. So it wasn’t necessary to spend time with him, outside of her job.

“You’re paying me for tutoring,” Veronica reminded him, collecting her bag. “You don’t need to buy me dinner on top of that. Besides, I should head home before it gets dark.”

“Are you a vampire?” Logan asked, eyes turning solemn. 

“Wouldn’t that be the opposite? I’d just be waking up?” She parried back, smiling despite herself, then turned serious. “No, I just don’t like walking home in the dark.”

“I’ll drive you, then.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “Stay for pizza and then I’ll take you home.”

“Well…”

Her stomach answered for her, grumbling again. 

“Are you a pepperoni or sausage girl?”

She glared, sure an innuendo was to follow but he just blinked and waited for her answer.

Maybe she was wrong. After a beat, she replied, “Oh, um, can I be both?”

“Of course.” A lazy smile spread across his face and her stomach did a somersault. “Anything else?”

“No, thanks.”

Trying not to look like she was prying too much, she wandered around his room, inspecting things, while he called in the pizza order. A framed picture of the championship hockey team over his desk, a collection of trophies on a shelf. The usual clutter on top of his dresser—loose change, movie ticket stubs, a tube of chapstick, a handful of condoms. Just the reminder she needed.

Conspicuously absent, though, were any photos of his family. Interesting.

“Pizza’ll be here in ten.” 

Spinning back around to face him, Veronica shifted her weight from one foot to another.

“So i’d invite you to hang out downstairs but then I’d have to introduce you to my roommates and they are mostly—”

“Dicks?” She cut him off.

“Oh, do you know him already?”

Confused, Veronica raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

Logan chuckled. “Dick Casablancas is one of my roommates. His name...well, it fits. But he’s one hell of an enforcer.”

“Blonde or brunette?” 

“Blonde.”

“Ah. He was entertaining a guest in the living room. Who’s the brunette?”

“Casey. He’s less of a dick but equally disgusting. His girlfriend has helped reform him a little.”

“Do you know anyone who’s not awful? Or not a hockey player?”

“You’d like Wallace,” he conceded, moving to lean against his bed. “He’s cool. And an excellent forward. Fastest skater I’ve ever seen.”

Before having to admit she had no idea what any of these hockey terms meant, the doorbell rang. 

“I’ll just go grab that.” Logan gestured toward the hallway. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Soda. Unopened, please.” He didn’t bat an eye at her request. She didn’t know or trust this guy and wasn’t taking any chances. “Mind if I…” Trailing off, Veronica pointed at his bathroom.

“Sure. Be right back.”

He disappeared out the door and she knew she shouldn’t snoop in his bathroom. That was definitely a boundary that should not be crossed. But after using the facilities and washing her hands, she couldn’t help but take a peek in the medicine cabinet.

Huh. No prescription pill bottles or other red flags. Just another box of condoms. And a surprisingly large collection of hair care products, for a hockey player.

_ Right. What you see is what you get. Standard frat boy, Veronica. _ He might smell amazing but clearly he wasn’t her type.

Just what her type was, remained to be seen. But after she had established herself in a reliable career, she could date someone steady and discover what she liked. Someone like Duncan, her biology lab partner. Or Piz, Parker’s friend from the radio station. They had both asked her out. Not wanting to be derailed from her career goals, she had said no and didn’t look back. 

Logan was totally unsuitable. And it didn’t matter because it wasn’t like he was interested in her. 

Folding his hand towel carefully over the bar, she made her way back to his bedroom. 

Pizza box open on his desk, Logan was already settled on his bed, pointing a remote at the flat screen TV on top of his dresser. “Wanna watch something while we eat?”

“Are you inviting me to Netflix and chill? Because the answer is most definitely no.” Scorn laced her words as she glared from the doorway.

He laughed, a low, throaty chuckle that resonated in her belly. “Nah, not when there’s pizza. Or, I guess, I am asking you to Netflix and chill but literally, not euphemistically.”

Mainly because he used the word  _ euphemistically _ correctly, she grabbed a slice and sat on his bed, crossing her legs underneath her. “What do you want to watch?”

“I’ve been meaning to start  _ The Crown _ . Or  _ Peaky Blinders _ ? Thoughts?”

“ _ The Crown _ is excellent, I’d totally recommend it. And addictive. But I just watched it. What’s  _ Peaky Blinders _ ?”

After watching the trailer—and getting a look at Cillian Murphy—Veronica agreed to give it a try. It wasn’t her usual type of show but despite that, she was intrigued. Needing to know what happened between Tommy and Grace, she didn’t get up when the pizza was gone and the second episode started automatically. She and Logan bantered back and forth while they watched, speculating on plot twists and gloating when they were right. 

Sitting stiffly against Logan’s headboard, she shifted, trying to get comfortable but still maintain plenty of space between them. 

“Oh, hey, do you need a pillow? Or a blanket?” He turned to look at her, eyebrows raised.

“Um, no, I’m fine.”

“You can stretch out if you want.” Flipping his position, Logan lay so his head was at the foot of the bed, closest to the TV, and patted the spot next to him. “Or whatever.”

After squirming unsuccessfully for a few more minutes, Veronica finally gave in and settled next to Logan, mirroring him. She was acutely aware of his proximity but as she focused on the show, lying beside him began to feel normal. 

Before she knew it, they finished the first season.

“Oh my god, it’s almost midnight.” Standing, she stretched her arms out wide and rolled her neck. “I can’t believe I spent the entire night watching TV.”

Logan quirked a brow at her. “You’re not much for relaxing, are you?”

Bristling, she folded her arms over her chest. “I work hard and don’t waste time, if that’s what you mean.” She didn’t appreciate his comment, especially since Mac said something similar last week.

“Work hard, play hard, Mars. Stress relief isn't a waste of time. It looks different for everyone but it’s okay to give yourself a break.” Hopping to his feet, he stood in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “See, you’re so tense. You need to let it go.”

Her eyes slid closed as he kneaded her muscles. “If you start singing like a Disney princess, I swear I’ll record it on my phone and post it on YouTube.”

The threat didn’t sound as fierce as she intended it—her words were practically slurred because it felt so amazing. His long fingers eased the tension out of her shoulders and her head lolled on her neck. 

_ If he’s that good at a back massage, what else can he do with his hands? _

Clearing her throat to try and wipe that thought from her brain, she straightened. “Thanks. But, um, I have an early class tomorrow. I should probably go.”

“Okay.” His hands dropped to his sides and he swiped his keys off his dresser. “I’ll drive you home.”

“En Espanol.” 

Sighing, he shook his head. “No way.”

* * *

“Huh.” Logan tapped a finger on the handmade, hastily scrawled sign taped to the Fritz library. “Library closed due to power outage.”

“What? I had power at home. This is ridiculous,” Veronica fumed. It was then she noticed the lights were out on the west half of campus behind the library, security lights flickering a dim yellow.

“Things were fine at the ice area.” Shrugging, Logan dug his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen. “Hey, Casey. Do we have power? Nope? Okay, thanks.”

He turned to her, expectant. “So, where should we go instead?”

Some tutors met their clients at Starbucks but Veronica found it distracting. Too many people. It didn’t help that it was early evening and getting dark. This was probably a bad idea, but what else could she do?

“My apartment is five minutes from here. Has electricity, running water, everything. Let’s go.”

Spinning on the heel of her black bootie, she started to walk in the opposite direction but Logan grabbed her arm, halting her progress. “I’ll drive.”

“If you insist.”

“Why do you walk everywhere, Mars?” he asked, making conversation as they rounded the corner to the parking lot behind the library. “Saving the environment?”

Veronica made a face as he let her into the passenger seat of his startlingly yellow SUV. “Clearly, you aren’t.”

“Hockey gear takes up a lot of space.”

Involuntarily, she glanced at his roomy back seat and tried not to think about all the girls he must have had back there. Just for hockey gear, huh?

“Actually, I’d be happy to pollute the environment a little but my car is in the shop.”

“For a week?” Logan started the car, then sat and stared at her. “I don’t know where you live.”

She’d never let a tutoring student have her address before. It seemed unprofessional and unwise. But things had been fine at his place the other night and her roommates were home. 

Taking a deep breath, she pointed out the windshield. “Left, then a right. And my car is still in the shop because I can’t afford the repairs yet. But I’m working on it.”

Logan tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, followed her directions and pulled up in front of her apartment building. Exiting the vehicle, she led the way to her second floor home and unlocked the door. 

“Veronica!” Parker called. “You can join us!” 

Glancing around, Veronica tried to figure out what was going on. A trio of giggling girls on the couch, Parker standing in front of them, holding flashcards and laughing hysterically. No idea what it was, but definitely not her scene.

“We’re playing Review Charades!”

Parker was sweet, a nice roommate, and entirely too perky for Veronica’s taste. Mac lived with Parker freshman year and convinced Veronica to invite her to share their current suite, which she usually didn’t regret. But expecting her to play party games was a bridge too far. 

Logan’s wide eyes met hers in an expression of horror. 

“Uh, no thanks. Spanish tutoring.”

“Hi, Logan,” one of the girls sing-songed from the couch. “You sure you don’t want to play?”

“Maybe next time.” He winked at her and smiled. Veronica cleared her throat, pointedly. “But I’ve gotta learn some Spanish right now.” 

With one last flirty grin to his adoring fans, Logan followed her down the short hallway to her bedroom, whistling.

“Who’s your friend?” Veronica tried to keep her voice light as she slammed her backpack down on her desk, ripping it open to search for her materials.

“Her?” He jerked a thumb towards the front room. “Beats me.”

“She sure seemed to know you.” Still not looking at Logan, she stomped over to her twin bed and planted herself in the middle, spreading out her books and making it clear there was no room for him on it.

“Veronica.” He pulled out her desk chair and turned it backwards, facing her. “I’m the captain of the hockey team. A lot of people know me.”

_ And in the biblical sense, too, I’m sure.  _

Logan glanced around her spartan room and she did her best not to feel uncomfortable. It was just a bedroom, no big deal, but she didn’t often have guests. Definitely not of the male variety.

Veronica had punched her V card in high school, more out of curiosity and a perfunctory desire to get it over with than any real love (or lust) for her partner. Strategic in her choice, she had crashed a party for the rival high school and hooked up with a guy she had little chance of running into again. 

Sex was, by and large, underwhelming. Random hookups were fine—and college was a great place for it—but after four years she had yet to encounter anyone who could do anything her vibrator couldn’t. So there was really no need to invite guys back to her room. And Logan wasn’t a guy—he was a client. 

_ So get to work, Veronica.  _

She cleared her throat. “Tell me about hockey. What’s the big deal?”

His features transformed before her eyes, lighting up with excitement. He practically glowed as he opened his mouth, obviously ready to launch into an ode to his sport. 

“Uh-uh.” Holding up her palm, she cut him off before he could get going. “En Espanol.”

“But hockey stuff isn’t in my vocabulary lesson,” he whined, face falling. 

“Here.” She threw a Spanish-to-English dictionary at him, which he caught without blinking. “Figure it out. It’s good practice.”

With a deep sigh, he flipped open the dictionary and haltingly, with many pauses, stumbles, and corrections, began to explain hockey to her. Not just the rules but also what he liked about it. The discipline it gave him, the satisfaction of being part of a team, the exhilaration of scoring a goal or winning a game. She hadn’t expected him to be so transparent. 

“Have you ever been to a game?” He asked her in Spanish.

“No. No time. I work a lot.”

“There’s one on Wednesday. You should come.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I should—”

“Work, or study, I know,” he cut her off but his soft grin took the sting out of his words. “What if I take you out afterwards and we talk about it, in Spanish, so it counts as working?”

“We’re talking about it now,” she pointed out. 

“Yeah, but you need to do more research. And I always need to eat after a game. The recap helps me, too.”

It didn’t sound like a date. He had made it clear that it was definitely a tutoring thing. He didn’t want to date her anyway. And she certainly didn’t want to date him, so it was fine.

“Wednesday at six at The Ralph. Come on, it will be good for you,” he continued, cajoling. “I’ll leave you a ticket at the gate.”

“I suppose—”

“Great. I’ll see you after by the—Actually, you should give me your number so I can text you after. Where’s your phone?” Tossing it to him, he programmed himself into her phone and set it on her desk. “And whatever you do, don’t wear anything yellow. Rival colors.”

“Wear yellow,” she teased with a smile. “Got it.”

* * *

Veronica jumped when her phone buzzed in her pocket later that night. She didn’t know who The Great One was but she could guess. 

_ The Great One: How do you say score in Spanish? _

Veronica: I don’t know a lot about hockey but I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I gave Wayne Gretzky my phone number. 

_ The Great One: Not my fault, that’s what the ladies call me _

That, obviously, did not deserve a response. 

_ The Great One: So how do you say score in Spanish? _

Veronica: I’m not helping you flirt with the senoritas. Go look it up. 

_ The Great One: It’s for an assignment _

Veronica: Like I said, go look it up yourself. Night, Logan. 

_ The Great One: Night, Veronica _

* * *

The same thing happened the next day. Her phone buzzed, catching her attention during her dinner break.

_ The Great One: hey, what was that other tv show we talked about? _

So, what, they text now? When did this happen? A Spanish question was one thing but this…

Biting her lip, she typed out her response. 

Veronica: The Crown? It’s excellent. 

_ The Great One: Thx _

What possessed her to add more, she wasn’t sure but Veronica found herself sending another text. 

Veronica: The Umbrella Academy is also really good. 

_ The Great One: cool. We’ll have to watch it together.  _

Together? 

_ The Great One: Are you free now? Wanna come over? _

That sounded like a booty call if she’d ever heard one. And sure, maybe a night of casual sex would be fun—it had been ages, after all. But Logan was her tutoring client. She needed this job. And she needed to make responsible choices. 

Veronica: No, I’ve got a shift at the diner tonight. 

He’d never know she was lying. Right? 

* * *

Veronica had never been to a hockey game before. She grew up in Southern California and her dad was a baseball fan so she didn’t know much about the rules, besides getting the puck into the net. 

Sometimes the refs’ calls were beyond her, but she was unprepared for how exciting the game was. On the edge of her seat, it was hard to keep her eyes on the tiny puck. Even though she was pretty close to the action—the ticket Logan left for her was amazing, right behind the home team’s bench. 

She paid attention during the roster announcements and tried to track Number Twenty-three’s movements. Game play moved fast and she was absorbed in watching, jumping to her feet and screaming with the rest of the crowd when the Hawks scored. The buzzer sounded at the end of the first period, making her jump. 

After catching her breath, she felt warm enough to remove her winter coat, revealing the new green and white University of North Dakota Hockey shirt she bought for the occasion. She’d probably never wear it again but she couldn’t help hoping Logan’s wide grin would spread across his face when he saw it. 

Before she could chastise herself for the dumb purchase, the pretty brunette on her left flipped her curtain of hair in her direction and smiled. 

“Hey. Who are you cheering for?”

“Oh, um,” pointing at her shirt, “The Hawks.”

The girl laughed. “I figured. These are the player’s seats, they get to give out the tickets. I meant which guy?”

Veronica grimaced, feeling like an idiot. Of course that’s what she meant. 

“I thought I knew all the other girlfriends, that’s why I asked,” she continued. “I’m Darcy.”

“Veronica. Nice to meet you. My, um, friend,” she stumbled over the word, “Logan gave me the ticket. But we’re not—”

“Echolls?” Darcy cut her off, incredulous. “He doesn’t usually stick with anyone long enough to remember her name, let alone invite her to a game.”

“Oh, no, it’s not like that. We’re just friends.” 

“That’s good.” The fuzzy green ball on the top of Darcy’s stocking cap bounced as she nodded. “I love him like a brother but he’s not boyfriend material.”

“Yeah, no worries here. Not my type.” 

_ The butterflies I get in my stomach every time I think about his smile mean nothing. He’s a client and clearly not interested. Which is good because neither am I.  _

“So how much do you know about hockey?” Darcy raised a curious brow.

“Next to nothing.”

“No worries, I’ll fill you in.” Darcy began pointing out the various lines on the ice as the zamboni smoothed out the gouges and continued to explain things as the players filed back out, switched nets, and started the second half. 

By the time the second period ended, Veronica still wasn’t sure she understood icing but Darcy seemed sweet and enthusiastic. 

“So are you dating someone on the team?” Veronica asked as Darcy gave a tiny finger wave to the players leaving the ice. 

“Casey Gant.” Her brown eyes twinkled as she pointed to the back of a disappearing head. “Number forty-four.”

“Ah, okay. I think I met him the other night. Does he live with Logan?”

“They’re housemates. I try not to enter the biohazard zone that is their place. So you and Logan…?” Darcy trailed off, question apparent in her voice.

“I’m his Spanish tutor, actually. We were talking about hockey and he invited me to the game.”

“I don’t mean to pry. I’ve just never seen him hang out with anyone before. Usually he just sleeps around.”

_ Wow, he must really think I’m hideous if he hasn’t tried to make a move. _

At 5’1’ and a hundred pounds, Veronica knew she wasn’t everyone’s type. A lot of guys liked statuesque, curvy girls with big boobs or a bigger butt. There were entire songs written about it. Her nose was not her favorite feature and there were other things she’d change, but she had never thought of herself as ugly, either. She didn’t care for the way it made her stomach sink to her toes.

Pasting a smile on her face, she asked Darcy another question about penalties and tried to pretend like it didn’t bother her.

The third period was as exciting as the first two and she found herself jumping up and down, high-fiving Darcy, after the Hawks scored again. They kept the Gophers from scoring for the rest of the game and Veronica got to her feet, singing Chelsea Dagger along with the rest of the crowd as the losing team headed to the locker rooms.

Still celebrating on the ice, Logan took off his helmet, pounded a teammate on the back in congratulations, and shook his sweaty hair out of his face. Glancing around, his grin widened as he spotted her and waved. 

Trying not to smile too much, she waved back. Holding his hand up to his ear and mouth like a phone, Logan mouthed, “I’ll call you,” and she nodded.

Veronica could feel Darcy’s gaze on them as she watched this exchange. “Are you sure it’s just Spanish tutoring?”

“Oh, totally. We’re meeting after the game to talk about hockey. In Spanish.”

“Okay.” But Darcy’s raised brow and skeptic tone conveyed her disbelief.

* * *

Texting her a few minutes later, Logan confirmed that he’d meet her outside the locker room doors in twenty minutes and gave her directions to the part of the stadium. Darcy was headed there, too, so they walked together, continuing to make small talk. Veronica learned that Darcy was an elementary education major, she and Casey had been dating for two years, and she grew up nearby in East Grand Forks, Minnesota.

Shoving her hands in her jacket pockets, Veronica tried not to feel out of place among the friends and family loitering outside the players-only area. Darcy excused herself to go talk to a friend across the crowd and Veronica had just convinced herself it was time to bolt when a hand on her forearm stopped her.

“Hey, you came!”

Spinning, she turned to face Logan, smelling faintly of aftershave. His hair was still wet and his cheeks were flushed. Damn, why did he have to be so handsome?

“I think you mean,  _ hola _ . Good game, by the way.”

“ _ Gracias. _ ” He winked. “So I know we’re supposed to talk about the game but a bunch of the guys are going out to The Loft. We usually all celebrate together after a win. Wanna join us?”

“Uh, I don’t know....” That was distinctly different from what she agreed to and it made her nervous. Especially after Darcy’s warnings about Logan. 

“Come on, Mars. Live a little. It will be good for you.” He clasped his hands together and held them under his chin. “Please?”

The sight of Logan, begging like a little boy, was too much for her. Busting out laughing, she relented. “Okay, as long as you promise you won’t keep me out too late.”

“Deal.” He slung his arm around her shoulders and steered her out, obviously unaware of what his physical proximity did to her insides.

She took Logan up on his offer to drive. Thankfully it was a small campus and the bar was close so if she decided she needed to leave for any reason, she could always walk home, although this late at night it wasn’t her first choice.

The bar was lively for a Wednesday night, packed full of hockey players and celebrating fans...most of whom were scantily clad girls, she noticed, feeling more out of place than ever in her green t-shirt. 

Logan pulled her into a booth, jerked his head at the guys sitting across from them. 

“You’ve met my associate, Dick.” The blonde shook his hair out of his face, flashed her a lecherous grin. “And this is our other housemate, Wallace.”

“Hey, how’s it going?” Wallace stuck his hand across the table and shook hers. His eyes twinkled in his brown face and put her at ease. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Veronica.” 

“Wallace is safe,” Logan murmured in her ear. “I’m gonna go grab us some drinks. What can I get you?”

The internal debate about beverage choice warred inside her but ultimately she decided to play it safe. “Root beer. In a bottle. Can you—”

“Unopened?” He offered before she could ask.  _ He remembered _ . 

Logan didn’t question her selection or pressure her into anything else, but winked and slid out of the booth. 

She made small talk with Wallace and Dick until Logan returned with drinks, sliding into the booth next to her and handing her a bottle opener off his keychain. His thigh brushed hers, sending tingles of awareness through her. 

“So.” Dick leered. “You riding Echoll’s zamboni?”

Sputtering, Veronica spit out her mouthful of soda, spraying the table. Logan sighed and Wallace shook his head.

“Man, we’ve talked about this.” Wallace clapped Dick on the shoulder, squeezing, until the other man winced. “We don’t ask things like that and we don’t call it a zamboni.”

Masking her embarrassment with a glare, Veronica crossed her arms over her chest. “I saw you play tonight. Looked like you weren’t even qualified to drive the zamboni, let alone—”

“Hey, I have an idea. Let’s play foosball.” 

Taking her drink with her, Veronica let Logan grab her arm and lead her to an open foosball table. 

“Sorry about that. He’s not very charming but…” He trailed off, shrugging. “He’s mine, I guess.”

“How did you end up with a twenty-two year old hockey player for a baby?”

Logan huffed a laugh and ran a hand through his hair. 

“He had a rough time Freshman year. His brother had just died. And we were both new, on the team together. I kinda looked out for him. He’s returned the favor and so...I’m stuck with him.”

“Ah, I see.” Veronica nodded sagely. “Like Han and Chewie.”

“Exactly. It’s just unfortunate that Dick speaks English instead of moaning. No one knows if Chewie was saying inappropriate shit all the time.”

Veronica giggled and twirled the knob on the foosball table. “So we gonna play or what?”

Opening his mouth to reply, Logan was interrupted as a sultry brunette twined herself around him.

“Great game tonight, Logan.”

“Thanks, Ashley.” 

Ashley laid her hand on his chest, lashes fluttering. Veronica felt her own twitch with the urge to roll at the blatant flirting.

“Do you have plans tonight? Because I know what you like after a win,” she giggled, reaching up to tousle Logan’s hair, “and you know I can scratch that itch.”

Looking cozy, Logan leaned down and whispered something in Ashley’s ear. 

Veronica inhaled sharply, stiffening.  _ This isn’t a date. _ Why does it matter? Clearly he’d rather be with Ashley, anyway.

“I’m just gonna…” She trailed off, jerking her thumb in the direction of the door. 

“Veronica, wait!” Logan’s hand on her bicep stalled her flight. “Where are you going?”

“You seemed busy,” she hissed, glancing at Ashley, twirling her hair and posing so her ample cleavage was on display. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Logan looked over at the intruder, too. “Oh, her? She’s...I mean, yeah, we had a fling last semester but it’s no big deal.”

“I’m not sure Ashley knows that.”

He waved his hand, dismissive, and instead of being jealous of Ashley, Veronica had a crazy desire to defend her.

“So that’s what you do, huh?” Her voice grew louder as her rant gained steam. “You have flings with these poor girls and then drop them whenever you feel like it?”

Brow furrowing in confusion, Logan took a step away from her. “I don’t—I mean—”

“You’re just like all the rest of them.” Veronica cut him off, crossing her arms over her chest.

“The rest of what?”

But she didn’t have an answer, filled with irrational anger. “Go have fun with Ashley. I’m going home.”

“You don’t have a ride.” Logan stepped into her personal space again. 

“I’ll walk.”

“Yeah, right. Like I’d let that happen.” Glaring at her sarcastically, he dug his car keys out of his pocket. “Let’s go.”

“You've been drinking. No way.”

“Veronica, I had half a beer. I’m fine.”

Shaking her head, she set her jaw. “No. I'll never let someone drive who’s been drinking.”

“But—” 

“You don’t understand,” she cut him off fiercely, spitting the words at him as she got in his face. “I will never make that kind of mistake. And I won’t let you, either.”

Snatching his keys out of his hand, Veronica spun on her heel and marched into the bathroom.

* * *

After splashing some water on her face and giving herself a chance to calm down, Veronica smoothed her hair in the mirror, straightened her shoulders, and pushed open the door to the restroom, prepared to confront Logan.

“Hey.”

His soft voice in her ear made her jump. Okay, maybe she wasn’t prepared to confront him in the hallway right by the bathroom. 

“Veronica, whatever I did wrong, I’m sorry. Will you come talk with me and let me take you home? I promise I won’t have anything more to drink and I’ll wait an hour. Or I’ll walk you home if you really have to go now,” he rushed on, words tumbling out in earnest. “I just don’t want you to go by yourself.”

Anger deflating, she nodded. “Can we grab something to eat?”

“Of course, anything you want.”

Letting Logan lead her to a secluded two-top in a corner, they placed an order for appetizers with a passing waitress and then Logan leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him and pinning her in an expectant stare.

“So are you going to tell me what that was all about?”

Veronica traced a scratch on the table, not able to meet his eyes as she spoke.

“Look, when I was in high school something really bad happened. I…well, it’s made me extra cautious.”

He digested her words, then leaned forward, inclining his head towards hers. 

“So here’s the thing, Veronica. My dad’s an asshole. Grade-A, abusive, horrible person. And for a long time, I worried the same thing would happen to me. Genetics, right? But one of my friends, Wallace, actually,” he jerked a shoulder in the direction of his teammates’ table. “Wallace helped me realize that I can learn from my dad’s mistakes but they don’t have to define me.”

He cleared his throat, then continued. “I’m really sorry about whatever it was that happened to you. It’s smart of you to be careful. But once I stopped living my life in fear of becoming my dad, it was like this weight was lifted off my shoulders. I could finally live my own life, make my own mistakes.”

Giving a rueful chuckle, Logan shook his head. “I’ve certainly made enough of them. But at least I’m not thinking about my dad all the time, you know?”

Mulling over what he said, she took a sip of her drink, debating. 

Logan certainly wasn’t the dumb jock she had expected. Opening up to people wasn’t her thing; she could count her close friends on one hand. But this guy—maybe he had the potential to be in that category. He gazed back at her, steady, and she decided to go for it. 

“My mom drove drunk, killed a pedestrian.”

“Shit,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Veronica.”

Taking a deep breath, she plunged on. “It was when I was in high school. It changed everything. My dad lost his job, I lost my friends. And now…”

Her voice wavered. Logan grabbed her hand and squeezed, infusing her with strength. “Now I have to be so vigilant. I have to get a good job, have a good reputation. I know what happens when it all disappears. I couldn’t handle losing it all again.”

“That really sucks. But you—I can’t imagine you ever doing anything like that.”

“And it has to stay that way.” 

“I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit, V. You might surprise yourself.”

Veronica shrugged, happy to be distracted by the arrival of their mozzarella sticks and nachos.

“So what was that back there?” Logan asked before shoving a loaded nacho into his mouth.

Swallowing her own mouthful, Veronica raised her eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“With Ashley. Why’d you get all weird and try to leave?”

“Oh.” She hoped it was dark enough he wouldn’t notice the flush she could feel creeping up her cheeks. “I thought you wanted me to.”

“Why?” He pressed, ducking his head to meet her gaze. “Did I say, ‘Hey, Veronica, could you give us a minute? I want to be alone with Ashley’?”

Shaking her head, she took another bite.

“So…?” He drew out the word until it became a question.

“I just figured. She seemed to know you pretty well.”

Logan blew out a breath, ran his hand through his hair. “Like I said, we hooked up. It was fun while it lasted but I’ve been thinking lately I don’t want that type of relationship anymore. I’ve been thinking I’d like to go out with you.”

Veronica’s eyes flew to his and saw only sincerity. “What? Why?”

The question was out of her mouth before she had a chance to analyze it. 

“You’re smart and fun. I like hanging out with you. I like your jokes. I just thought—”

“It would be inappropriate,” she cut him off, looking at the table instead of his face. “Because I’m your Spanish tutor.”

“You’re fired. Now will you go out with me?”

Her mouth dropped open and Logan laughed.

“Come on, I’m kidding. But seriously, I think we’d be good together. Go out with me.”

Veronica shook her head. “I think that’s a bad idea.”

Logan might not be exactly what she expected, but that didn’t mean she could throw her life plan out the window and date a hockey-obsessed frat boy. 

Holding up his hands in surrender, Logan gave her a sad smile. “Okay. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Forget I said anything.”

They munched on the appetizers in silence while Veronica tried to think of anything to say to fix the awkward moment.

“Hey, Veronica?” Logan’s voice was soft and she worried he was going to ask her out again. He was obviously an unsuitable boyfriend but he was so cute, it was getting hard to continue to decline him. “Thanks for coming to my game tonight. It was nice to have a fan.” 

“Oh,” was all she could think to reply. “It was fun.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in having fun?” 

“A friend of mine,” she emphasized the word, hoping to get back to the solid ground they had before, “encouraged me to try it. I’m glad I did.”

Hopping off his chair, Logan glanced at the large clock on the wall. “Probably time to get you home, though, Cinderella, before it gets too late.”

He smiled at her but it wasn’t the genuine smile that made her stomach do flips. It didn’t reach his eyes. This was the smile he had given Ashley, the smile he gave the random girls in her apartment or strangers in the library. Instead of somersaults, her stomach sank. 

* * *

It had been a week since the hockey game and their not-date at the bar. Veronica tapped her pencil on the library table as she waited for Logan to show up for tutoring and wondered how uncomfortable this encounter would be. 

“Hola, Señorita Mars. Como estas?”

Logan set his books down on the table and slid into the chair across from her. His greeting was perfectly normal and appropriate, his gaze didn’t waver from her face. But the spark was missing from his eyes. 

She tried to keep her expression blank, not let her disappointment show. 

_ No, Veronica. This is good. Professional, like you wanted.  _

“Bueno.”

They chatted in Spanish for a while, then worked on some new vocabulary and reviewed for an up-coming quiz. Throughout everything, Logan looked at her like he looked at everyone else and it...stung. He was polite and respectful and she hated it.

Finally at the end of their session, in English, she asked, “So, did you ever end up watching  _ The Umbrella Academy _ ? What did you think?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t get to it.” He glanced at his watch and stood, gathering books. 

“I don’t have a shift at the diner tonight. Want to come over?”

“Can’t. Sorry.” 

His flippant tone didn’t sound sorry at all and her face must have reflected her mounting anger because his eyes softened and he grabbed her sleeve.

“Hey, have you ever had a crush on a friend and found out they don’t feel that way? It’s kinda human nature to pull back.” He paused and sighed deeply. “I’d love to hang out with you, Veronica, but the whole time we’d be watching TV, I’d be thinking about how much I want to kiss you and I just—”

“You want to kiss me?” She blurted out, interrupting him.

“Well, yeah. You’re hot and funny.”

“You think I’m hot?”

Ugh, why couldn’t she stop repeating him? 

Logan just laughed. “You have to know you’re hot. But that doesn’t matter. You’re my friend so I need to not think of you that way.”

Veronica nodded. “Of course. Thanks.”

That made sense. But why was she disappointed?

“So I’ll see you for tutoring next week?”

Only able to nod again, she watched as he waved and walked out of the library.

Logan wasn’t suitable boyfriend material. He didn’t fit into her life plan. She didn’t even like him like that. Why were tears pricking her eyelids? 

* * *

After moping around their apartment for three days, Mac cornered her while she was making dinner. 

“Good to see you’re actually eating a meal, I guess, instead of ice cream.” She glanced pointedly at the fettuccine alfredo that Veronica was finishing. “But that’s comfort food. You’re acting like you broke up with your boyfriend. Are you ready to tell me what’s wrong?

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

Veronica added an extra handful of parmesan cheese. Lord knew she needed it.

Mac gasped. “Oh, no, is it the internship? Did something fall through? Bad news about the car repairs?”

“No, Mac. I promise I’m fine.”

“Veronica.” Mac tucked a strand of blue hair behind her ear, pinned Veronica in her stare. “I know you. Stop lying and tell me what’s wrong.”

Veronica sighed and grabbed a fork from the drawer, taking her noodles to the table. Mac slid into the chair next to her.

“It’s so dumb. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“It’ll make you feel better,” Mac sing-songed. 

Talking about her emotions rarely had that effect on Veronica but Mac clearly wasn’t going away. 

“Fine.” Rolling her eyes, Veronica tried to convey her disdain and stabbed her fork into her pasta, then shoved an over-large bite into her mouth. “There’s this guy.”

Mac gasped. “Oh my god, is this girl talk? We’ve been friends for four years and I’m not sure this has ever happened. Am I adequately prepared for this? Should we paint our nails, too?”

“Shut up.” Shoving her friend’s shoulder gently, Veronica tried to keep from smiling. “This is no time for sarcasm.”

“It’s always the time for sarcasm. But tell me about this boy.”

“He’s, he’s not my type. We were friends, he asked me out, I said no.”

“So what’s the big deal?”

Wasn’t that the crux of the matter? She wasn’t upset that Logan didn’t feel like her friend anymore. She missed the flirty smiles, the way his eyes lit up every time she walked into a room. She wanted to watch TV with him and go out to dinner...and yeah, ever since he mentioned kissing her the other night in the library, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that. She wanted to see if the legendary Logan Echolls was really as excellent between the sheets as everyone claimed. 

But that was part of the problem, wasn’t it? He was a player, he slept around. He probably didn’t know the meaning of monogamy. There was no way he could be right for her. She needed a serious boyfriend for her serious life plans. And not until she was firmly established in her career.

“He’s totally unsuitable.” She waved her fork in the air as if that explained everything.

“You like him,” Mac accused, poking Veronica’s bicep. “You like him!”

“No, I don’t,” Veronica protested. “Well, I do, but as a friend. And—”

“Oh, is he being weird about it? Hitting on you and making you uncomfortable?”

Miserable, Veronica shook her head. “No. He’s been polite and respectful.”

“Wait a minute. After you turned him down, he was...nice to you? Didn’t pester you?”

Veronica stared at her dinner, unwilling to meet Mac’s eyes.

“And you’re upset?” Mac continued. “Because he gave you exactly what you asked for?”

“Um.” 

“Have you ever thought that maybe, and just maybe, hear me out, you’re upset because you like him, too?” Mac’s voice rose in agitation as she spoke, eyes flashing.

“He’s not my type.” But the argument sounded feeble even to Veronica’s ears.

“You said that already. Why not?”

“He’s a jock! And a player. A frat boy. He just wants to get into my pants.”

Mac raised a skeptical brow. “Did he harass you? Booty call you? Because I find it hard to believe you’d put up with that from your friends.”

“Well, no, but—”

“What did he say when he asked you out?” 

_ You’re smart and fun. I like hanging out with you. I want to kiss you. I think we’d be good together.  _

Logan’s words echoed in her head and she couldn't bring herself to answer Mac. 

“What if he just wants a fling?” she whispered, a last ditch attempt at denial.

“Did you talk to him? Explain that you’re not interested in that?”

“I’m not interested in anything!”

“If that’s really true, Veronica, you know I’ll support you. But think about this—if you’re not interested, why is it still bothering you? And why are you so worried about always making the right choice? You’re not your mom,” Mac added softly. 

With that, she stood up, swiped a soda from the fridge, and headed into her room. 

Why did her best friend have to be so damn smart?

“Wait!” Veronica called, a note of panic creeping into her voice. “If that’s the case—and I’m not saying it is, but...what do I do about it?”

Mac popped her head around the doorframe, a smug smile on her face.

“Talk to him. Ask him out yourself. And grovel a little bit. Humiliate yourself to take away the sting of rejection.”

Tossing and turning all night, Veronica mulled over Mac’s words in her mind. She clearly was interested in Logan, but did that change anything? He would be a terrible boyfriend, right?

Thinking back over their interactions, though, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps she had judged Logan too harshly. Assuming he was just a slutty frat boy, had she been willing to see anything besides that? Watching TV with him in his room, he never made her feel uncomfortable. He made sure her drinks were unopened without turning it into a big deal. He chose to talk to her instead of hooking up with Ashley. Maybe she had jumped to conclusions that just weren’t true.

_ I’ve been thinking lately I don’t want that type of relationship anymore,  _ he had said. Maybe he deserved a chance. 

She didn't even want a boyfriend right now, though. She had decided years ago that her goals were more important than anything else. She had to work hard, get a good job, and stay in control of her life at all costs. And Logan Echolls did not fit that plan.

But was the price too high? Would it all fall apart if she let herself try this one thing? 

Maybe it was worth the risk.

* * *

_ Grovel a little bit _ , Mac had said.  _ Humiliate yourself _ . 

So Veronica had done the only thing she could think of. 

After contacting Logan’s roommates, she met with Coach Ross and convinced him to keep the players on the bench for a little longer than normal at the end of the game. Then she spent her hard-earned money bribing the zamboni driver and the P.A. announcer so that she could pull this off.

Shifting in the hard seat on the back of the zamboni—ice resurfacer, Vinnie the driver had haughtily informed her—she gripped her sign tightly in her free hand. The other held on to the tiny handle for dear life.

“Are you ready?” Vinnie shouted over the roar of the engine.

Nodding over her shoulder at him, she tried to stabilize herself as the machine lurched forward. Nausea rolled through her belly. What had she been thinking? This was a terrible idea.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” Cliff, the voice of the Hawks, boomed through the stadium as the zamboni rolled onto the ice, “please direct your attention to center ice for a special presentation.”

Could her face actually catch on fire? She had thought the ice would be cold but being nervous made her flushed and sweaty. The crowd stared at her curiously and her mouth went dry. 

As the zamboni curved into a straight-away stretch in front of the home team’s bench, she unfolded her sign. 

_ Hey Great One, will you go out with me? _ the white poster board proclaimed in red block letters.

Thanks to her bribing and cajoling, Dick, Wallace, and Casey elbowed Logan and positioned him so that he could see her tentative smile as she lowered the sign and peeked over it at him. His eyes went wide, and then he started to laugh.

The zamboni slowed, then idled. That was her cue. Clambering off it, she slid across the slippery surface over to the home team’s boards.

“Alright, gentlemen, move out.” Coach Rossi saluted her, then opened the door and herded the rest of the team towards the locker room with his clipboard. “Echolls, you can stay. Everybody else, hit the showers."

Trying to stay on her feet, Veronica waited amidst catcalls until the Hawks vacated the premises. Then she slipped through the open door to stare, breathless, at Logan. Still in his skates and pads, he towered over her, expression unreadable. 

Oh god. This was a terrible idea. Why did she think putting herself out there in front of an entire stadium of people—all still watching in the stands—was her best play?

But then his lopsided smile spread across his face. “You’re asking me out?”

Exhaling a deep sigh of relief, Veronica could only nod.

“But I thought it was a bad idea?”

She shrugged. “Maybe I misjudged you. Give me a second chance?”

“Why?”

Gulping, Veronica stared into his brown eyes. Talking about her feelings didn’t come naturally to her and she’d be lying if running back out onto the ice and hopping on the zamboni didn’t cross her mind. But she forced herself to stay put, to open her mouth and put herself out there.

“You’re right, I’m not my mom. I can’t make decisions out of fear that I’ll become her. Maybe having fun every now and then wouldn’t be the worst thing. You could teach me.” Giving him a tremulous smile, she tried to ignore her growing anxiety that he would reject her. “You said you thought we’d be good together, and I’d like to see if you're right. Plus, I think about kissing you all the time, too.”

“You do, huh?” Grabbing her hand, Logan closed the distance between them and gazed down at her, eyes sparkling with heat. 

Strains of Sixpence None the Richer’s  _ Kiss Me _ filled the stadium. “We’d like to do one last special Kiss Cam for the night, folks,” Cliff McCormack explained over the music.

Chuckling, Logan glanced at the jumbotron. Their faces were framed by hearts and kisses as the song continued. 

“The Kiss Cam? Really?”

Veronica shrugged. “I was hoping you couldn’t resist.”

“Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!” The stadium of fans began chanting.

“Might as well give the people what they want.” 

Cupping her face, Logan bent down and brushed his lips against hers, sending shivers along her spine—and not from the cold. Fisting her hands in his jersey, she deepened the embrace, licking the seam of his mouth with her tongue and then sliding it inside when he parted his lips. 

The cheering crowd faded into the background as she lost herself in his warmth, exploring his mouth and twining her tongue with his. She wanted more, more, more, and was just about to tug his jersey over his head when she remembered their audience.

Panting, she pulled away to look up at him, still impossibly tall in his skates. “So is that a yes?”

“Yeah.” Glancing around at the spectators, he quirked a brow. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Definitely.”

He slung his arm around her shoulders as they made their way off the ice together. “I can’t believe you rode the zamboni. Dick’s never gonna let you live that down, you know.”

Veronica smiled up at him. “Worth it.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Chikabiddy and AmyPC for the betas and to His Beautiful Girl for her knowledge of Minnesota and North Dakota. And shout-out to EllieBear for Logan's nickname!


End file.
